


Venom

by AurigaVenatici (p_3a)



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Breathplay, Come Marking, Creampie, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:33:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_3a/pseuds/AurigaVenatici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrathion's been bitten by a succubus, and Anduin Wrynn is the only person he can hold in mind for long enough to get help from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Venom

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fettered Freedom](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/35618) by tumblr user sneakyfeets. 



> Wrathion is a trans man. Anduin is a cis man.

Wrathion knew he had to get to Anduin, and that was about the only thought he could put together right now.

Were he better equipped, he might have been able to marvel at his own stupidity - how naieve he’d been to get into close quarters combat with a succubus. Perhaps lament his fate; the bite at the place where his cheek met his neck was filled with succubus venom, and the vile stuff was designed to ensure that a victim would have to return to the succubus to get their fill. Wonder, perhaps, if going to Anduin was the best idea, given their relationship.

But he couldn’t think about any of those things as his wings carried him on the night air, currents feeling altogether too good against the membranes. All he could think about was how  _desperate_  he was - how horrid this sensation of emptiness was and how badly he needed something  _inside_  of him. And although there was a nagging part of him in the back of his mind which was telling him to find Anduin in case the powerful priest could cleanse him of this poison, the rest of him was headed to the man’s room with something altogether different in mind.

As the last of his sensible thoughts faded away, he started to lose control of how he was flying. He was almost there, but he giggled at how the winds tossed him around and at his own drunken attempts to stabilise himself in the air. His fun was cut short when he collided with a window, however; reality faded in favour of darkness. He was left alone - with only the tight knot of arousal in his loins for company, and the sheer drive to  _do_  something about it.

-

Prince Anduin Wrynn woke up sharply at the sound of something smashing its way into his window.

He was on his feet in seconds, his old leg injury complaining but easily ignored by now. It’d been five years, after all. He calmed a little, though, when he saw, bathed in moonlight, who it was that had clumsily entered the room.

A black, dog-sized lizard with his purple wings tucked into his body - the creature was lying still on the ground, only the occasional breath revealing that it wasn’t dead. There were a few scrapes - although none drew blood - where the shattered glass and pewter settings had impacted on the young drake’s scales.

"Wrathion," he stated calmly, if tiredly. "You need to stop doing this."

Wrathion didn’t immediately respond. When he did, it wasn’t verbally - he began to shift to his humanoid form sluggishly, wings retracting and talons turning to hands. Unusually, though, his horns remained, as did some patches of scaly skin. Anduin quirked a brow - something was wrong, and—

Ah, Wrathion hadn’t shifted with clothes on. Just what  _was_  he up to?

He has a few scrapes and cuts besides those incurred by his entrance, but nothing that suggested anything serious. Anduin knelt down and scooped the surprisingly light dragon up in his arms, carrying him to the bed and expecting him to stay prone.

But the dragon had other ideas; he grabbed Anduin’s face with both hands, claws digging into the Prince’s soft cheeks, and kissed him like his life depended on it.

"—! Wrathion?" Anduin managed, physically pushing Wrathion away as he lay him on the bed. Yet again, he was caught off-guard by the dragon’s reaction; he found himself pulled forwards by his wrist, which was grabbed so tightly that he was afraid Wrathion might break it.

But the dragon’s actions were clumsy and jerky - he’d been drugged, maybe? Anduin tried to get a look at his eyes through the kiss Wrathion forced, but they were closed.

He felt Wrathion’s hand close at the back of his head and jerk him back by his hair, eliciting a cry which made the dragon laugh drunkenly. “Anduin,” he cooed, “why are your clothes still on? We  _need_  to…” He whined loudly, needfully, and Anduin began to blush.

Something was starting to change, though; the edges of the world grew fuzzier and, despite Wrathion’s injured state, Anduin found himself returning the kiss with increased vigour. This wasn’t… he should be concentrating on healing the injuries, shouldn’t he? He pulled away again, and found himself giving a very  _un_ -princely moan when Wrathion dug his claws into his wrist.

Anduin Wrynn had spotted the bite on Wrathion’s neck too late.  _Succubus venom… oh_ no _._

At least it was only a secondary dosage, he consoled himself as he slipped his hand into Wrathion’s hair and called magic to his palm. If he could just soothe the dragon’s violent tendencies away a little, perhaps they could get through this together without incident. He felt Wrathion relax under him with shocking ease, letting his head rest to the side and a gentle moan fall from his lips as he loosened his grip on Anduin’s wrist.

Anduin gently moved his caress to Wrathion’s cheek, then kissed him again. His actions were slow and sweet - and, contrary to usual when Wrathion would whine and complain that things weren’t moving fast enough, the younger prince didn’t say a word.

Anduin found himself taking more and more control of the dragon, even going as far as to pin  _his_  wrists to the bed and grind his hips down against his counterpart’s. Wrathion moaned  _loudly_  at that and Anduin remembered that he wasn’t even wearing any clothes - without thinking, he grinned and leaned in close to Wrathion’s prone form.

Brushing his lips against Wrathion’s cheek but keeping the dragon’s crotch untouched, he whispered: “What is it, Wrathion?”

Wrathion writhed against Anduin’s grip and started to try to break free again - Anduin found the slightest touch of Shadow rendered the dragon compliant again. It scared and… thrilled him at the same time, but he couldn’t think about that now.

"You’ll need to tell me what’s the matter, ‘my dear Prince’," Anduin sang, mocking Wrathion’s usual tone. The dragon whimpered and limply attempted to find purchase on Anduin’s hips again, not caring for any fluids he might smear on the older prince’s bedclothes. He found his limbs rather unwilling to move, and instead whined - "Anduin,  _please_ , I… oh, by the  _Titans_ , Andui~in!” He moaned again, arching his back and letting his eyes slide shut. “You  _know_  - just— please, it  _hurts_ , Anduin!”

He had the Black Prince underneath him,  _begging_ , and he still had his  _pyjamas_  on. Anduin couldn’t believe himself. He smoothed a hand down Wrathion’s forehead again and the dragon went limp as Anduin stood up to remove his clothes.

He made the mistake of glancing back at his handiwork, and felt blood rush to his cheeks and… somewhere else as he watched Wrathion’s chest rising and falling quietly, jaw slack and pupils dilated. But that wasn’t what had captured his attention so - what had done  _that_  was the way the dragon’s labia, usually nested inside his hair (kept purposefully long so’s to hide them), were not only visible but… slick and soft and  _twitching_. Anduin had never thought he would care for that particular piece of anatomy, not least because Wrathion had never seemed to want him to - but he caught himself staring and had to breathe out hard before undoing the rest of the buttons on his top.

The dragon’s 2-inch clit was of more immediate interest to Anduin, and he made a show of lying down between the dragon’s legs and kissing, gently biting at his inner thighs. Then he moved up - and kissed his stomach instead, and his hips, and Wrathion  _groaned_ , whining loudly and  _begging_  his Prince for what he wanted.

"Ah- _Anduin_!  _Please_! Oh my stars,  _please_  touch me,” he pleaded, wanting desperately to writhe his hips but rendered immobile by the venom - or maybe the magic? Anduin didn’t like to think so. “I  _need_  it, Anduin! I need somethi—”

His speech was broken up by a lurid moan as his lover finally complied with his requests, closing his lips over the dragon’s short dick. He was  _hot_  to the touch and he tasted like cinnamon, with a hint of spicy pepper - and something else Anduin didn’t like to think about (the venom itself, of course). It sounded like something out of one of those trashy novels Wrathion had his strange preference for, but it was true - maybe that was the venom’s doing too.

Unable to move much, Wrathion whimpered and whined and cried Anduin’s name like he was afraid Anduin would die if he didn’t. A thought crossed Anduin’s mind that he should perhaps stop when he noticed there were tears on Wrathion’s face, but he couldn’t - not when the way he squirmed and writhed against both the magic and Anduin’s hands was quite so…  _perfect_.

Wrathion found himself sobbing through his orgasm, back arching and breath coming in parts as the stimulation finally became too much. It was all too much, already - far too much for his mind to cope with and he found himself retreating even further into whichever space it was the venom was offering him. He needed  _more_  and he needed it  _now_.

He sat up abruptly and grabbed Anduin’s face again, kissing him hungrily and dragging him forwards on top of him. Anduin  _growled_  and before he knew what he was doing, he had his hand on Wrathion’s neck, pushing him back to the bed - an increasingly small part of himself was horrified at this development, but the rest found the moan it elicited  _very_  arousing indeed. He stroked the hair out of Wrathion’s face, yet again reapplying the soothing spell as he moved to grapple the handle on the drawer of the bedside table.

Wrathion fell back onto the bed, prone again and pupils practically round as he stared at Anduin. The human could barely hold his concentration together for long enough to apply the lubrication he’d retrieved to his rock-hard cock, managing to hold off on stroking himself to climax only with the promise to himself that, in a few moments, he’d be deep inside Wrathion and fucking him for all he was worth.

One hand prised the dragon’s legs apart again. He pushed them up onto his own shoulders so he had access to the part he wanted; Wrathion breathed out hard with anticipation of where this was going.

Anduin’s other hand, slick with lube, began to work Wrathion’s back passage open. He succeeded unnaturally quickly - just as well, as the noises Wrathion was making as he lay limply under Anduin’s ministrations were driving him insane. He closed his eyes and couldn’t help but roll his length against Wrathion’s soaked labia a few times before pushing his tip against Wrathion’s back entrance.

Wrathion  _laughed_ , then panted loudly as he felt the sudden fullness inching inside of himself. Oh, he couldn’t  _wait_! All he wanted was Anduin to fill every part of him, and all he could do to get it was to whine and hope his Prince got the right idea. The loss of control was  _delectable_. He  _craved_  more of it and nearly came on the spot when he felt Anduin’s hands close around his neck again; far from pressing down to choke again, but the pressure was delightfully comforting nonetheless. He groaned loudly as Anduin rolled his hips forwards, hilting his considerable length inside Wrathion.

But something was still missing. He began to whine and squirm again, unable to do much else, as Anduin thrust just as helplessly into him - sweat was dripping off the older Prince’s forehead in the moonlight as he grunted with exertion. Wrathion tried to lean up to steal a kiss, tried to cry out his name, but found it absolutely impossible to concentrate on either. He could only whimper and hope that Anduin would let him speak again.

Anduin, meanwhile, was trying desperately to keep track of himself - and losing this battle to how  _tight_  Wrathion always was. It wasn’t right that he’d get such a thrill out of threatening to choke the Black Prince, but he couldn’t help it, right now. He found himself thrusting with almost mechanical rhythm - until Wrathion, able now due to the slip in Anduin’s concentration, reached up to grasp his shoulders and made pleading eye contact.

"Anduin…" he whispered, "I need you in me. In  _all_  of me…”

Anduin hesitated again. Wrathion had  _never_  asked for this before - how could he be sure it wasn’t an effect of the venom? How could he be sure it wasn’t somehow a trick? But as Wrathion’s vocalisations grew ever more desperate and closer to sobs, Anduin found one of his hands wandering downwards - trailing over the dragon’s chest and down his stomach to his clit, circling it once before sliding a single finger inside him.

He was  _impossibly_  tight, even when this aroused, and Anduin could see why penetration might, under usual circumstances, be painful for the dragon. He dismissed the thought that it might even be  _enjoyable_  to see him in pain - that was  _surely_  the venom’s fault - and instead focused on exploring exactly which parts of the dragon made him squeal when he touched them.

It got harder to concentrate as he began to succeed. Wrathion was tightening around him with every successful stroke at the roof of his slick walls, mouth now fallen permanently open and eyes glazed over as part of his hazy-looking grin. Anduin gritted his teeth and found himself almost scratching against Wrathion’s g-spot before the younger man finally tightened so much that Anduin had to grasp his hip with his spare hand to stop himself from being pushed out.

Wrathion almost shouted Anduin’s name as he came, tears streaming down his face again, and that was it for Anduin, too - he locked up, gripping Wrathion’s hip hard enough to leave bruises as he finally shot his hot cum into Wrathion’s depths.

Wrathion’s demeanour changed almost immediately on this development. Anduin felt the spell go slack, as if no longer meeting resistance; Wrathion’s eyes slid shut and he breathed a sigh of relief. Anduin tried to be suspicious, but all he was met with was an overwhelming desire for  _more_. Wrathion couldn’t fall asleep  _now_ ; they were just getting started!

No… no, that wasn’t like him at all. That wasn’t something he’d usually think. He gently pulled out of Wrathion, laying kisses down his shoulders and face; Wrathion hummed contentedly, tears drying on his cheeks and his writhing subdued to the extent that it was barely noticeable.

Anduin paused there for a few moments, watching, before forcing himself - it took an awful lot of willpower - away from his lover and off the bed. He had to calm  _down_. For the now soundly asleep Wrathion’s sake, at the very least.

He breathed out hard and reassured himself that at least he’d done a good job of satiating the dragon’s needs. Ejaculate could be used as a makeshift dampener for succubus venom - it put the target to sleep, at the very least, hopefully until the effects of the bite wore off. Unfortunately, as far as Anduin was concerned, Wrathion couldn’t provide any such substance - which meant he was alone with his enhanced desires for the next few hours at the least.

He frowned deeply as he washed himself in the bucket of by-now cold water that had been brought to him much earlier that night. He  _should_  be calming down… he  _should_. But all he could think about was Wrathion, and the  _noises_  he’d made, the way he’d kissed him with such  _fervour_  and the frighteningly arousing way he’d melted into putty under the slightest touch of Shadow. The way he was sleeping now, so… vulnerable.

No! He couldn’t. He  _couldn’t_! It wouldn’t be right, it—

He glanced over at Wrathion, still naked and prone on the bed, and immediately regretted it.

Before he realised what was happening, he found himself crossing the room to kneel over Wrathion. At first he just kissed at the dragon, running his hands over the tangled mess of curly hair and gently skimming his fingers over the ridges of his horns. He was so  _beautiful_  in such a terrifying way, and Anduin had always found himself mesmerised with the way he felt under his touch; now, more than ever.

Gradually, he found himself sitting up on Wrathion’s chest, stroking the dragon’s face with both hands while sliding his rock-hard cock against his cool, slightly scaled chest. The Prince of Stormwind found himself utterly lost in the sensation, edges of his vision too hazy and edges of his thoughts too comfortable - too much so to stop himself in realisation of exactly what he was  _doing_  when he moved to slip his shaft into Wrathion’s yielding mouth.

The dragon remained fast asleep as Anduin Wrynn grasped his hands around his curved horns and began to roll his hips back and forth. He held himself back so’s not to choke Wrathion on his considerable length, grateful for still having the presence of mind to do so.

That is, until Wrathion gavve the smallest moan in his sleep. He remained still and relaxed, but it seemed Anduin’s actions were even reaching through to his dreams.

In light of this, Anduin should have been  _more_  considerate - but the heady arousal clouded his judgement out of mind and he gripped Wrathion’s horns tightly, starting to - for want of a more princely term - fuck his face.

The way his unresisting throat felt against Anduin’s tip was indescribable. Every time he heard Wrathion’s breath hitch or try to cough around Anduin’s cock, he - despite everything his conscious mind begged him - only felt more and more eager to finish inside Wrathion once again.

His rational self grabbed ahold of him only a few moments before his climax. Practically doubled over and knuckles white with how hard he was grasping Wrathion’s horns, he pulled out from the dragon’s mouth sharply. Instead, he spilt his seed on the dragon’s scaly, dark skin.

The sight did nothing to dampen his desires, and he found his hips continuing to move, sliding against Wrathion’s cheek and neck where he’d left his mark. Wrathion shifted contentedly in his sleep, subconsciously licking his lips; Anduin couldn’t help but place his tip against the dragon’s lips again, throwing his head back at the feeling.

Anduin didn’t know how long he kept using Wrathion’s still form to satisfy himself. By the time his vision started to fade in exhaustion, his orgasms were coming through dry and his leg was starting to twinge with a pain which nonetheless felt wonderful through the haze of the venom.

Lying down next to Wrathion, he licked at some of the mess he’d left on his face. It tasted wonderful - if he was awake enough, he was sure he could have cleaned up after himself entirely, but he wasn’t. Sleep enveloped him sooner than he wanted, and his head rest against Wrathion’s shoulders as consciousness abandoned him.

-

Wrathion’s head hurt a  _lot_.

He groaned piteously as he raised a hand to rub his forehead. He found a weight on his shoulder - prising his eyes open, he peered over and found Anduin Wrynn fast asleep on his shoulder. He looked… exhausted, even while sleeping.

As Wrathion’s hand met his face, he understood why. Bringing his fingers away, he examined the dried flakes of semen which came away with them. He found himself unable to remember exactly how they’d got there… gently, he extracted himself from Anduin and sat up.

Ah… they’d made  _quite_  a mess, hadn’t they? He couldn’t remember a damn thing…

Mostly, though, his head hurt. He swung his stiff legs off the bed and walked over to Anduin’s wash basin to clean his face. And… shoulders, and chest, he found, as he glanced down. What on Azeroth—?

Ah! He remembered now.  _Succubus venom_ … why in the Titans’ name he’d thought it had been a good idea to come  _here_ , he’d never know. He supposed this was bound to happen. Still - he should be able to remember the sex  _itself_ , shouldn’t he? The venom didn’t contain an amnesiac property; that would defeat the end goal, after all, which was to make the victim doubt themselves enough to open a door to a demon if asked nicely.

He glanced over at Anduin. Unless…

The older prince groaned, starting to come ‘round. Wrathion strode over, kneeling by the bed and grasping for his hand. “Anduin?”  
“Mmh… Wrathion,” the human mumbled. Then his eyes went wide and he sat up abruptly. “I— Last night—”  
Wrathion laughed, sheepishly. “I was bitten,” he admitted, raising two fingers to brush against the site of the injury. “I am sorry that I dragged you into this too, Anduin Wrynn.”  
“It’s… it’s fine,” Anduin said, sounding unsure.

There were a few moments of silence before Wrathion broke it:  
“Last night,” he continued from Anduin’s own cut-off sentence. “I… don’t exactly  _remember_  what happened beyond your peak. Your… first one, at least,” he smirked, brushing his now-clean collarbone with one hand.  
“I… me neither,” replied Anduin. It was a lazy lie, but Wrathion gave an amused, but sympathetic, smirk which seemed to imply he believed him. “I sort of… blacked out after a certain point.”

He didn’t want to tell Wrathion that he’d been  _mind-controlling_  him. He wouldn’t do it again, he promised himself - and, mentally, Wrathion. He always tried to keep the Shadows off his allies.

"My head hurts," announced Anduin after a few moments.  
“Mine too,” concurred Wrathion, who climbed back onto the bed and curled up about Anduin’s waist. “Shall we go back to sleep?”

"Mm," grunted Anduin noncommittally. Perhaps Wrathion would be able to - but he knew he’d be haunted for a long time, in a not-entirely-unpleasant way, by his memories from the previous night.


End file.
